Dixieland
by Natascope
Summary: Queenie is tasked with using her Legilimency to help track down Wizards that are supplying No-Majs with Wizarding drinks.


I do not own Harry Potter or Fantastic Beasts. Nor am I really sure where to find them.

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A/N: This is for Season V of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, round #8.

Team & Position: Caerphilly Catapults, Beater 1.

Base Prompt: [Chaser 3, desertredwolf, Puddlemere United] - Fantastic Beasts: Queenie Goldstein is a bisexual, ultra-top-secret Unspeakable for MACUSA's version of the Department of Mysteries.

Optional Prompts:

1\. (word) elegant

8\. (restriction) no Hogwarts staff is to be mentioned

12\. (dialogue) "You have his eyes."

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"You're looking elegant this evening, Queenie," Tina said as Queenie was making her way out the door. Pausing on the threshold, Queenie looked back over her shoulder.

"Don't wait up. I'll probably be out late." Queenie took a step out the door and was closing it behind her before she peeked her head back inside. "Cover for me tomorrow if I'm in late, okay?" Without waiting for a response, she closed the door. She could just imagine Tina's flustering at that final request. With a smile on her face, she made her way downstairs and out the front door.

Her mission for tonight was straightforward. She needed to head to a local speakeasy that was serving Wizarding alcohol to the No-Majs, something that had caused numerous incidents which had required bringing in the Obliviators. With the Auror investigation stalled, additional help from the Unspeakables had been requested. As the lead researcher on mind magics and their usage, Queenie had been sent to unblock the investigation.

The target tonight was the speakeasy's owner, William Barnes, a No-Maj. She glanced back at the picture she had been provided, taking the owner's beady eyes, round face, and balding head and committing them to memory. The owner typically worked in a back room, and the Aurors had not been able to find the supplier with their regular sweeps. Getting near enough to pluck the information directly from the owner's mind may prove a challenge. Once she got the required information, it would be handed back to the Aurors to allow them to continue their investigation.

A flick of her hand vanished the copied file as she neared her destination. She drew her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she entered the alley and walked swiftly to the speakeasy's door. Queenie gave two quick knocks, waited for a second, and then knocked once more. A few seconds later, an eye door slid open. A pair of brown eyes were staring at her through the peephole. A quick Legilimens scan got her the password to enter. "Dixieland."

With a grunt, the man on the other side of the door—Roger, who had worked here for the past two years and was worried about his pregnant wife—opened the door to let her in.

The jazz music from the band was the first thing she noticed upon entering the club. The second was the smoke; Queenie was always amazed at how much the No-Majs seemed to smoke their cigarettes and cigars whilst the Wizarding world was fairly smoke free, only the occasional pipe here and there.

The club was in full swing already that evening. At the back of the room, the band was up on stage. Immediately in front of that was a dance floor for those that wanted to dance, a liberty of which many people were taking advantage. Around the perimeter of the dance floor, there were tables for seating between two and four people. Some small booths were placed along the wall edges. Finally, in the front near where she had entered, there was a bar with an overworked man hustling behind it. He was working hard to fulfill the orders of the numerous people lined up along the bar edge.

Queenie moved into the line at the bar to give her a cover to look around the room in more detail. Even with a more in depth look around, she had not seen any indication of her target. It appeared that she would need to either locate and enter the owner's office or wait for the owner to come out into the main room, assuming the man was even here tonight.

A few minutes later a place opened up at the bar, allowing her to order a drink. Deciding to keep it simple and not impair her judgment, she ordered a simple soda water. The bartender looked mildly annoyed—why come to a bar with alcohol if you're going to order something non-alcoholic—but quickly fulfilled her order. Queenie slid the coins across the countertop and asked, "The owner in tonight?"

With a scowl, the man replied, "What's it to ya?" Yes, the owner was here, in his office in the back.

"Just wanted to give my compliments on the music. Pass it along, will ya?" she asked, smiling sweetly at the bartender. The man's face relaxed as he nodded and moved onto the next customer.

With her drink in hand, Queenie maneuvered herself to the edge of the room near some of the booths. From that location, she could easily look around the room, as if looking for a friend, whilst attempting to scan the patrons for someone that would be worth joining. She let the thoughts of the revelers surround her as she sifted through them lazily, looking for someone she could enjoy time with while waiting for the owner to come out to the floor.

After a few moments, she picked up the thoughts from a woman that was sitting by herself. The woman's boyfriend had asked to meet her here but had failed to show. She was drinking a bit more than she probably should have, especially given some of the thoughts from a couple of others in the room. Instead of allowing one of them to get a bit too friendly with the woman, Queenie decided it was time to make a new friend. "Hey, sweetie. My name's Queenie. You mind if I sit with you? Not a lot of free tables tonight."

The woman—fairly liberal, and self-identified as a flapper—looked up from her drink, her eyes a bit red. Whether the redness came from the drink or some hidden tears was debatable—ah, both. The woman's brown hair was in a bob, and it framed her brown eyes nicely. "Annette," she said after taking a moment to examine Queenie. "Feel free to take the seat. The one that was supposed to sit there doesn't seem to be coming tonight."

"You were left hangin'?" Queenie asked. "I can't believe anyone would miss out on an evening with you."

A slight blush crept across Annette's face before the pair started talking. It took the better part of an hour for Queenie to get Annette to speak aloud all of the details, by which time he was two-and-a-half hours late. Annette's boyfriend had been having a case of wandering eyes lately. This behavior was causing Annette to believe he was no longer interested in her and a breakup was imminent.

"Well," Queenie said once the tale had been drawn out, "what'ya say you and me give your boyfriend something to look at then?" Queenie placed her empty glass on the table and stood up with a flourish. "Care for a dance?"

"You and me? Here? Now?" came the stuttered reply.

"Come on. It'll be a good time," Queenie coaxed, holding out her hand for Annette. With a giggle, Annette grabbed hold of Queenie's hand, and the pair twirled onto the dance floor.

The two had been dancing for a few minutes before Mr. Barnes came out of his office. One of the staff had gone to get him due to the disturbance caused by the pair of dancing women. Shortly after he made it to the main room, Queenie caught sight of him and gave a mental sigh. She had been having a great time with Annette, and she would have preferred to continue giving the other woman her full attention but duty called.

Splitting her attention, she made eye contact with Mr. Barnes and dived into his mind. She quickly found a slipshod Obliviation. The memory was blocked off but was still present. Honestly, it wasn't even dimmed. There was no reason one of the Aurors shouldn't have been able to deal with this; someone would be getting a strongly worded letter tomorrow. She quickly slipped passed the barrier and retrieved the necessary memories from the man before backing out of his mind and focusing back on her dance partner.

It was at that time Queenie noticed two things. First, the floor had emptied, leaving just the two women dancing together. Second, Annette's attention was focused elsewhere. She was focusing on a new member in the crowd—the boyfriend who had run late due to family troubles and was desperately hoping Annette would forgive him.

When the song had finished, Queenie pulled Annette into a hug. "Your boyfriend, you have his eyes," Queenie whispered into her ear.

Annette blushed lightly and replied, "I think we've everyone's eyes on us."

Queenie took a step back and bowed over Annette's hand, kissing her knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, milady. I've enjoyed our time together, but I'm afraid I must retire as I have an early day tomorrow." With a smile and a wink, Queenie sauntered toward the door, the crowd parting around her as if by magic. As she neared the door, she discreetly waved her wand, and the noise from the crowd started back up again. By tomorrow, only Annette would be able to recall anything special happening this evening.

Twenty minutes later Queenie was back at the apartment she shared with her sister. Upon entering, she heard her sister's voice coming from the couch. "So, you have a good time?"

"Why, yes, yes I did," Queenie said.


End file.
